Spencer liked that you had came to visit him in prison often, and he also liked that, now that he was out, you were there to help him adjust back into the real world. You didn't have to — you two just worked together, but you were always there for him. He really liked it.

When you two first walked back inside his apartment, Spencer had expected it to be a mess, dirty, his plants dead — but it wasn't. Everything was clean, his plants were alive and watered, his books were dusted, his apartment smelled good. It took him by surprise — but not the bad kind of surprise — how everything looked... Homey. It was his place, it had been taken care of, and he wouldn't need to worry about this, at least. His nightmares were enough.

But Reid didn't know who had done. Was it you? Hell, he needed to ask.

"Everything looks so... Clean." Spencer said, hazel eyes taking in his apartment he had missed so, so, so much. "So taken care of. Even the plants?"

"Well, yes." You chuckled, making sure to help him with the bag he had brought from prison. "Of course."

"Was it...?" You, he wanted to ask. Was it you?

But you knew him damn well, and you knew what he meant.

"It was me." You said, offering him a smile. "You gave me a spare key, remember?"

Of course Spencer remembered. But this was— You had taken care of his apartment, his books, his home. You didn't even know at first how long he'd stay in prison, framed, and you came by every week to take care of it. You...

God, you were something else. Reid shifted on his feet to look at you, and he felt his chest warm and tight. Was this... Maybe he did have really strong feelings towards you. Spencer did suspect it for a while now, but this was...

"You didn't have to." Was all that Spencer managed to whisper.